


Road to Recovery

by Ruusverd



Series: Echoes of the Fall AU [15]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, echoes of the fall
Genre: Bronze Age AU, F/M, Gen, Shapeshifters AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25974154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruusverd/pseuds/Ruusverd
Summary: Geralt wakes up, and is revealed to be a very grumpy patient. Jaskier and Cahir are banned from babysitting duties forever.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Echoes of the Fall AU [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863010
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Road to Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> In the northern tribes (with the exception of the Tiger) true names are only for friends and family, and hunter's names/trade names are used with everyone else. Yennefer and Jaskier don't consider each other close friends (yet) so Yennefer calls Jaskier Dandelion-Seeds-Floating or Dandelion, while Geralt and Ciri call him Jaskier.

Geralt knows he’s dreaming, but somehow also knows that he isn’t. He’s walking along a floating, shifting road made of rainbow-colored snake scales, not knowing where he’s going or what he’s left behind. He looks up and sees the stars, not fixed in place but darting around as if they don’t want to be in the sky and are looking for a way to get down. He remembers those moving stars. He’s seen their frantic dancing once before, during the ill-fated ritual that had bound him to the Wolf’s Champion. This twisting, snake scale road doesn’t look anything like the endless rolling hills of the godsland he’d seen on that occasion, but he’s never seen stars like that anywhere else.

The road sways under his feet, and he realizes it isn’t a road but the back of a vast Serpent, so large he can see neither the head nor the tail. He continues walking, not sure what else to do. The massive coils shift, and he is abruptly facing his mother, or perhaps something else using her image, standing in his way and stopping him from walking any farther down the gently undulating path of scales. If he ever knew his mother’s face he forgot it years ago, he only knows her name because Vesemir had given in to his begging and told him, but he recognizes her anyway. _S_ _trange what tricks the mind plays in dreams,_ he thinks distantly.

He shouts at her, venting a child’s long-buried resentment at being abandoned, left to the mercies of his father’s people who did not value mercy. She answers with Yennefer’s voice but he can’t understand what she says. He tries to go around her and continue down the path, but a sudden overwhelming pain erupts in his leg and then everything turns dark.

* * *

Geralt woke up slowly, feeling groggy and confused. He didn’t recognize the roof over his head, and he didn’t remember falling asleep. He thought he’d had strange dreams, but he couldn’t recall them now. Something about his mother? He hadn’t dreamed about his mother in years, didn’t even know what she looked like.

He started to roll over onto his side, then stopped with a hiss of pain. “Bloody Dragons,” he growled, remembering the attack of… a few hours ago? Days? He wasn’t sure. He took a deep breath and shoved himself quickly to a sitting position. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through both the pain and the light-headedness. He reached down to tug on the bandages wrapped around his leg so he could inspect the damage.

“Don’t touch those,” Jaskier’s peevish voice interrupted him. “It took ages for your Snake woman and her bloody scary friend to get the bleeding stopped, she would kill me if you undid all that work before she wakes up.”

Geralt turned and squinted at the Crow who was sitting propped against the wall nearby. “What.” he said intelligently, the word coming out more statement than question. He cleared his throat and tried again, “What are you talking about?”

Jaskier pointed, and Geralt followed his gaze to see Yennefer asleep on a hide next to him, curled up on her side with one arm under her head. "When did she get here?" he asked, his mind still too muddled to feel surprised. He was half-convinced he must still be dreaming.

Jaskier snorted. "She got here well before we did. Her and her scary flying friend."

Geralt groaned and rubbed at his face, wishing his head would stop spinning. _Bloody_ _huge lizards, why do they need to be venomous, too_ _?_ "My head is stuffed with wool, I don’t want to play riddles. What happened, where are we? Where’s Ciri?"

"You let a Dragon take a bite of your leg, that’s what happened. It didn't seem too bad at first, but then you started staggering around and collapsed. Then the most terrifying creature I ever saw in my _life_ came swooping out of the sky! It wasn’t a bird, it flew on these huge flaps of skin stretched between long fingers! Everybody was so busy falling down and screaming that nobody noticed the Laughing Men until they started tearing into the Dragons, and then the lizards were too busy with them to bother about us.

“I saw Cahir riding away with you on Plotka, so I flew after you. The not-bird and Yennefer patched you up- let me tell you he doesn’t look any less scary when he Steps back- and then he burned your leg and you passed out! You’ve been asleep for almost two days! I think the not-bird’s been doing something to you to make you sleep. Yennefer didn’t stop him though, so I assume it wasn’t anything that would hurt you.”

Geralt wasn't sure what to make of most of that, but he decided to wait until Yennefer woke up and get the details of what had happened from her. Jaskier’s account of any event tended to be nonlinear and muddled even at the best of times until he had a chance to work through his memories and set them to song. Yennefer was here. He could worry about how and why she was here and who the ‘scary not-bird’ was later. He had more important things to worry about now.

"Where. Is Ciri?" he repeated, getting angry as the implications of what Jaskier had said filtered through. “You and Cahir both left her _alone_ in the middle of a _dragon attack_ _?”_ He wished he could get up so he could throttle the Crow properly.

Jaskier scrunched up his face. "She wasn’t _alone,_ she was with Lem! And the Hyenas were making stew meat of the Dragons by that point, the fighting was practically over. Besides, what was I supposed to do if I stayed? Peck the Dragons to death? I’m no fighter!”

Geralt glared at him, trying to convey through his eyes how thoroughly he would be turning both Jaskier and Cahir into stew meat if he could manage it without falling down. “You and Cahir left Ciri with a _thirteen year old_ barely old enough to Step? You left _Lem_ alone in the middle of a dragon attack with another child to protect?”

Jaskier threw his hands up in the air. “Milva was there! The Horse Society was there! A whole screaming pack of Hyenas were there! You were _dying,_ Geralt! There wasn’t time to think!”

“If Ciri so much as broke a fingernail I am going to kill you both.” Geralt told Jaskier flatly.

Jaskier huffed.“She’s fine, completely uninjured! Had a fit of hysterics thinking you were dead, but she’s not hurt. We didn’t want to let her in here, but then she started biting anyone who tried to stop her so we had to let her in or Cahir was going to be too scared to go to sleep, and then she had hysterics again because you looked deader unconscious than the actual dead looked dead, but she’s fine.”

"What?” Geralt shook his head impatiently, “Nevermind, don’t explain. I'm awake now, go get her."

"Are you sure you’re ready for visitors?" Jaskier raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Don’t argue, just go get her!” As soon as Jaskier disappeared up the stairs, Geralt started pulling at the bandages again, determined to assess the wound himself before Ciri arrived.

"Don't touch those," Yennefer's voice said sleepily, “You’ll start it bleeding again.”

He made an annoyed face at her and she smiled at him, reaching to take his hand with the hand that wasn't tucked under her head. "You scared me, my love."

"I'm sorry," he said with genuine regret.

"You have more than just me to stay alive for now, you know. I met your absurd little warband while you were asleep."

"You met Ciri?" he tilted his head curiously.

Yennefer chuckled, "She has very decided opinions, doesn’t she? I slept through the biting incident myself, but when I woke up and Dandelion introduced us she insisted I help her change her totem right there on the spot. She was not impressed with me when I told her she’d have to wait.”

“You can do it for her, can’t you?”

Yennefer looked mildly insulted. “Of course I can, but not here and not now. I’m no Wolf priest and this isn’t the Wolf’s land, there’s nothing I can use to call him to her. If I tried the closest thing she’d be able to find would likely be the Wild Dog. And I won’t do it in any case until she’s had a chance to Step to the form she was born to. The Horse Society has their own way of life and their own reasons for doing what they do, but I won’t interfere with a child’s soul before she’s even old enough to touch it for herself. Every child goes through a phase of wishing they were something other than what they are, but changing someone’s totem is not something to be done lightly.”

“I don’t imagine she took that very well,” Geralt winced.

“Not in the least. She was quite determined to hate me for it until I offered to tell her stories about you.” She smiled mischievously, “She warmed up to me very quickly after that.”

"Oh no, I don’t like the sound of that,” Geralt’s smile gave the lie to his words.

“She had stories to tell me, too. A very entertaining conversation for both of us. Did you know she can do a positively hilarious imitation of you? I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

Geralt chuckled. “If you’re teaming up against me, I assume that means you like her?"

Yennefer brought their clasped hands up and kissed his scarred knuckles. "Of course I do, silly wolf." Geralt would have liked to kiss her if not for his bad leg hindering his movement and the sound of light footsteps on the stairs.

"Geralt!" Ciri came flying down the steps into the hut and ran to him, Jaskier scrambling after her. She saw the bandages on his leg in time to not jump onto his lap, but she knelt on the floor next to him and put her arms around his neck. He put his free arm around her and hugged her back.

"You scared me!" Ciri scolded

"I'm sorry," Geralt said again.

"They said you were going to be all right, but they wouldn't let me come see you so I thought maybe you'd died and they just didn't want to tell me! Then they let me come in but you looked like you were dead and you wouldn’t wake up!"

"I needed to sleep because I lost a lot of blood, but I'm going to be fine now," he assured her, hoping it was true since no one seemed inclined to let him check for himself. "Was anyone else hurt?" he asked Jaskier.

"A couple of the Horse Society are dead, the mute ones are mostly either dead or scattered. Several more of their people and some of the Hyenas are injured but recovering. None of us got seriously hurt except you."

Geralt nodded, sad for the slain Horse people but relieved it hadn't been worse. They’d been fortunate that the Laughing Men had come to their aid. The Hyenas weren’t above a bit of river piracy themselves, but he supposed they didn’t want the Dragons encroaching on their hunting grounds. _Alladai was right,_ he thought, _I’ve never heard of Dragons hunting this far up the Tsotec’s back._ _I doubt it was their own idea._ _Were they targeting the Horse Society or were they waiting for us to come by with Ciri?_

He turned to Yennefer to ask if she knew what the Kasra was up to, but was distracted when another man ducked into the hut. In the space of a few seconds Geralt connected the tall, gaunt frame, the pointed ears, and the mouth full of needle teeth to the legends of the blood-drinking terror of the Plains. He Stepped and lurched to his feet, snarling and limping on three legs to put himself between Ciri and the stranger. He probably wouldn’t win a fight against such a creature even if he wasn’t injured, but a wolf with three working legs was still deadlier than an unarmed man with one working leg. He felt an intense wave of dizziness from the rapid movement, but he grimly refused to pass out.

“Geralt, stop it!” Yennefer sat up and grabbed a handful of fur on his neck, tugging gently. “You’re going to hurt yourself. This is Regis, he’s the one who saved your life.”

He turned his head to look at her incredulously. Or as incredulous as a wolf’s face could look.

“I came all the way across the Plains with him, I promise he’s not going to hurt anyone.” Yennefer tugged on his mane again. “Come on, lie back down before you start bleeding again. You’ve lost too much blood as it is.”

He flattened his ears against his head and looked at the Bat anxiously.

The Bat smiled, which given the needle teeth wasn’t as reassuring as he probably hoped. “I only drink the blood of mute beasts, my friend. You and your warband are safe from me. Even if I were so inclined, your mate has made it quite clear she would bite me herself if I betrayed her trust, and the Serpent’s venom is a great deal deadlier than the Dragon’s.”

Geralt reluctantly let himself be guided back down and Stepped back to a man, immediately propping himself up so he could watch the Bat unwind the bandages. Maybe he could get a glimpse of his own injury, if he was lucky. Ciri sat next to him, watching with morbid fascination as Regis examined the wound and applied some sort of healing salve to the jagged punctures and the burn mark covering the worst of the tears. The injury was ugly but didn’t look life threatening, the burn looked almost worse than the actual bite. Geralt privately agreed with the Bat’s assessment that it didn’t seem to be festering. Not that anyone was asking his opinion.

“How long before he can travel?” Yennefer asked the Bat.

Regis pursed his lips and studied the injury critically. “It will take a few more days for the Horse Society to recover as many of their mute brothers as they can, take care of their dead and injured and finish their trade with the Laughing Men. By the time they are ready to move on we’ll be able to go with them I think, as long as he doesn’t exert himself in the meantime.”

Jaskier laughed, then stopped when no one else looked amused. “Oh, I thought you were joking. Clearly you’ve never treated a Wolf before. If you tell him he can’t walk on that leg he’s just going to Step and hop around on the other three. He’s not going to lay around on his back for several days unless you knock him out.”

 _“He_ is going to hop out of here on three legs right now if you don’t stop talking about him like he’s not here,” Geralt complained. Yennefer looked apologetic and Ciri giggled.

“Move around gently if you must, it won’t hurt to keep yourself from stiffening,” Regis addressed him directly. “Fresh meat with the blood in it will help you recover your strength faster, but other than that all I can recommend is rest and close observation for signs of infection.”

Geralt laid back down and stared at the ceiling petulantly. “Thank the gods you’re here, I never would have thought of that. I’ve never lost blood because something bit me before, I wouldn’t have the slightest notion what to do.” Yennefer swatted his arm chidingly but he ignored it.

“What’s the grossest thing that ever bit you?” Ciri demanded, leaning over and peering down at him, her dark hair falling forward over her shoulders and tickling his face.

“Lambert Bites Iron,” Geralt replied instantly.

“Who’s that?”

“One of my foster brothers, a little younger than I am. He bit everything and everyone that came near him, even before he learned to Step.” He started telling Ciri the story of how Bites Iron as a young hunter had broken a tooth and earned his hunter’s name all in the same ill-advised fit of temper. By the time he got to the end of the tale he was stumbling over his words, exhausted.

“That’s enough now, time to go back to sleep.” Yennefer said when he’d finished talking.

“I’ve been asleep for two days!” Geralt protested half-heartedly. Ciri, apparently satisfied that he wasn’t dying, kissed his cheek and let Jaskier usher her back outside.

“And you’re still so tired your eyes are crossing,” Yennefer countered. “We’ll be traveling again soon enough, you might as well take advantage of the chance to rest.”

Geralt grumbled in annoyance, then Stepped and shuffled around so he could stretch his bad leg out and lay his head in Yennefer’s lap. She ran her fingers through the fur of his ruff and started softly reciting one of the familiar stories of the distant past that children of every tribe were taught. He fell asleep to the sound of her voice, untroubled by any strange dreams.


End file.
